1. Chapter One Nathan

Chapter One: Nathan

I ’d been in this hole for three fucking hours.

Three hours without talking to Abby.

Three hours without knowing if anyone in my family was okay.

Three hours since I’d watched my father murder my mother.

I couldn’t shake the ache in my jaw, a steady throb that kept time with my racing heart. The tension was giving me a fucking headache, distracted only by the cold cuffs chaining me to a table at the San Mateo County jail.

I’d demanded a lawyer again and again—in this situation, there wasn’t much else I could do. The bruising on my face was their answer. My request for a phone call met the same stony silence.

I knew the score; killing a cop gets you a special kind of hell, even if the badge belonged to a snake like Tyler Matthews. This was the worst possible place I could have ended up in the aftermath of my mother’s murder…and I had no idea if my father would bother coming to find me.

The door creaked open, and Agent Diane Hayes stepped into the interrogation room. She took the seat across from me, laying down a file folder on the table. My right eye might have been swollen shut, but I could still see the self-satisfied tilt of her lips.

"Agent Hayes," I croaked. “You here to get me a lawyer or break more protocol?”

"Mr. Zhou," she replied, her tone light, almost teasing. Her gaze flickered over my face, taking in the damage. "Looks like you've had better days."

I bit back the retort itching at the tip of my tongue. No point in giving her the satisfaction. Instead, I settled for silence, watching her with wary eyes.

I knew the game well. I'd been playing it since I was old enough to understand the rules. The Serpents had their tendrils wrapped around the city's underbelly, covering up whatever I didn’t…and I was good. I’d been a killer for years, knew the game.

Witnesses? They either got a wad of cash thick enough to buy their silence or a bullet—whichever was cheaper. It was simple; we left nothing to chance. I was good at what I did, always had been.

Until Abby.

The thought of her sent an unfamiliar pang through my chest. Abby, with her indomitable spirit, her green eyes that could get right to the heart of me…that looked at me like I wasn’t just another coldblooded killer. Like I could be someone else, someone better.

She knew everything I’d done, but she wanted to join me in the dark…or maybe pull me up to the light.

I had to get back to her.

"Thinking about someone?" Agent Hayes' voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and knowing.

"None of your damn business," I grunted, fighting the urge to glance down at the folder she'd yet to open. Whatever was in there, it wouldn't be good for me. But she didn't have the evidence, couldn't have. I'd made sure of it.

"Come on, Nathan," she coaxed, her fingers tapping on the closed folder. "Don't you want to see what's inside?"

"Lawyer," I spat out. It was the only word that mattered now. If I was going down, I wasn’t going alone. And without a doubt, I wasn’t giving them anything until I had someone on my side—someone who wasn't looking to bury me.

"Suit yourself." Diane shrugged. But she didn't open the folder. Not yet. She was waiting, biding her time.

And so was I.

Because when it came down to it, I had to protect Abby—even if it meant staring down Agent Diane Hayes and whatever hell she had tucked away in that folder. Abby was my line in the sand, the one thing I hadn’t corrupted.

Yet.

"Looking pretty rough there, Nathan," Diane observed with a tilt of her head, her eyes scanning my face. The bruises and swelling were badges of the last few hours' hospitality.

I met her gaze, my expression locked down tight. "Yeah, well, you know how it is. Occupational hazard."

She let out a short laugh. "I suppose when your occupation involves killing people, you'd expect some pushback."

"Pushback's one thing," I allowed myself to say. "Beating the hell out of a guy who hasn't been charged? That's something else."

Diane leaned back in her chair, the smugness never leaving her face. "You're learning firsthand that they don't take kindly to cop killers around here."

"Alleged," I corrected her. It was a game of semantics, but in this room, every word counted. Every word was a potential lifeline or a noose.

"Of course…'alleged,'" she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Lawyer," I said again, firmer this time. "I want my lawyer, Diane. You've had your fun, now it's time to play by the rules."

"Rules?" She chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "Nathan, you should know better than anyone that sometimes…rules need to be bent."

"Even the Constitution?" I asked dryly. "Because last I checked, you're breaking about a thousand laws by not giving me my call. You’ve got nothing on me and you’re just letting your men have a little fun."

"Oh, I’ve got plenty on you," Diane replied. With a shake of her head, she opened the folder in front of her with a casual flick of her wrist. "Want to take a peek?"

I glanced down at the stack of papers but said nothing. The game was hers for now, and I had to be careful not to make any wrong moves.

"It's a list of suspected victims," Diane continued. "The Serpent's Fang—heard of him? One of California's most notorious mafia hitmen."

Silence hung between us for a moment longer before Diane sighed and began pulling out photographs from the folder. She passed them over one by one, each a grisly snapshot of my past mistakes. Early days, messy work—before I learned to clean up my act.

"Nothing to say?" Diane prodded when I didn't react.

"Should I?" I countered, though it took effort to keep my voice even. Something churned in my gut as I looked at the faces in the photos. Faces that should've meant nothing to me, just part of the job.

But instead, my stomach twisted with an unfamiliar sensation, and nausea threatened to rise up.

Because I kept seeing Ma’s face superimposed on my victims. Bloody, lifeless, brutalized.

How many of them had families that still missed them?

"Really, Diane?" The words slipped out, tinged with a disgust I couldn't hide, as the images of the dead stared back at me. "What's the point?"

Diane leaned back in her chair, a smug look shaping her lips as she watched my reaction. "I'm surprised, Nathan. For such a callous, coldblooded killer, you seem…affected."

Internally, I was screaming. Each face on those photos could have been Ma…or Abby, or Lily, Justin, Alex. That reality clawed at me from the inside out.

But I couldn't show Diane that. Couldn't let her see the chaos her little show stirred up within.

"Where is my lawyer?" I narrowed my eyes at her. "I've got rights, and you're stomping all over them."

Diane shrugged, an almost imperceptible lift of her shoulders as she reached for the scattered photographs. With methodical indifference, she slid them back into the folder and snapped it shut.

"Rights," she echoed with a dry chuckle, "are a luxury, Nathan. Not when you've killed a federal agent." She tapped the closed folder, a drumbeat to my racing heart. "But none of this matters if you play your cards right."

I stayed silent, watching her every move like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"Help us dismantle the Serpents from the inside, and I can guarantee you an easier sentence," Diane said, her voice pitched low, as if offering a secret. "You're just a tool to them, Nathan, I know that…and you want out right? For you and your girlfriend."

My heart dropped into my stomach, pounding like a drum. Not her—not Abby. I didn’t give a fuck about my life, but if they hurt Abby…

“I’m not seeing anyone—”

Diane interrupted me by dropping something shiny and gold on the table—and I realized that it was the necklace I’d locked around Abby’s neck weeks ago, the one I’d only recently removed. She watched me closely, scrutinizing me for each and every reaction.

“We found that in your home in South Beach,” Diane said without so much as blinking. “Along with…well, a downright obscene amount of DNA evidence. For such a tidy killer, you make a big mess when you’re fucking your FBI agent girlfriend.”

I couldn’t help myself; I jerked my hands up, straining against the cuffs.

"Abby's got nothing to do with this," I spat.

A muscle ticked in my jaw, and I pressed my lips together, fighting the urge to tell her exactly where she could shove her deal. Abby was off-limits. She had to be. Because if they dragged her into this mess, then all bets were off.

I would kill anyone who fucking touched her.

My past crimes would be nothing compared to the hell I would rain down if Abby got hurt.

"Think about it, Nathan," Diane continued, her tone softer now, as if coaxing a confession from me. "Tell me everything and I could promise you an easier life…maybe even a life away from the Serpents, where you could be with her. You could have that—if you're willing to help us."

Her words hung heavy in the air, mingling withh the stench of death that clung to my clothes since I’d left my parents’ house. But no matter what she promised or threatened, it was clear: Diane Hayes had just declared war.

And she didn't know who she was dealing with.

Diane's smirk widened. "You really care about her, don't you?"

Fuck. Abby wasn’t supposed to be leverage. But when it came to her, I couldn’t exactly keep a poker face. That much was clear.

"Where is she?" I rasped. "Is Abby in custody?"

Diane stood, her chair scraping against the floor as she snatched the necklace up. My hands jerked against the cuffs, metal biting into skin as I lunged forward.

I wanted to catch her by the throat, force out every detail about Abby's whereabouts, but the steel around my wrists held firm.

"Sit down, Nathan," Diane said, cool as ice. Her voice didn’t shake—not like mine did. She had me pinned down, all because she knew my greatest weakness. "You're not going anywhere."

I slumped back into the chair, fury boiling in my chest. The room felt smaller, the walls closing in on me. I was a caged animal, and for the first time in a long while, uncertainty gnawed at me. With Abby’s necklace off the table and back in Diane’s pocket, the only tangible proof of her existence had vanished.

"Tell me where she is," I ground out through clenched teeth, trying not to let Diane see my desperation.

"Maybe she's safe," Diane taunted, her eyes locked onto mine. "Or maybe she's just another piece of evidence against you."

I stared hard at her, every muscle tensed. But there was nothing I could do.

"Let's just say, for now, she's…unavailable," Diane finally said, a cryptic note in her voice that made my blood run cold. "And if I were you, I'd be more worried about what's going to happen next."

The door clanged shut behind her as she left, the sound echoing in the empty room. Alone with my thoughts, I felt the weight of my situation like never before. I was trapped here, powerless, while the lives of those I cared for hung in the balance. Abby, Justin, Lily, Alex—the uncertainty was a vise squeezing tighter around my heart.

I had played this game with precision, but I wasn’t in control anymore. Abby was in charge now…if she wasn’t already in police custody or dead.

I just had to hope she had control of the board.